


a seraphim burns with the fire of charity

by IncurableNecromantic



Category: Original Work
Genre: Creepy Person, Gen, Poetry, Seraphim, although possibly not, and i don't think i want to get used to it, but more likely pseudo-vampire, delusions of grandeur, had to get it out, i dunno man, i'm not used to that, in your bedroom, it was blocking the NaNo flow, talking about cardiac surgery, witches am i right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncurableNecromantic/pseuds/IncurableNecromantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>In the bloom of my youth and beauty, which I trust you will agree I still possess in abundance, I sold my heart to a witch.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	a seraphim burns with the fire of charity

Before you scream  
let me tell you why I have come here  
in the night  
into your chamber  
to sit by your sleeping side

I believe the tale worth telling  
and you will see that I have come in kindness  
(though  
you are so right to be afraid)

In the bloom of my youth and beauty  
which I trust you will agree I still possess  
in abundance  
I sold my heart to a witch  
(a bad bargainer, she, or perhaps just  
so kind)  
who said  
lie still and I will pluck it out  
an ounce more or less of flesh avails a mortal nothing  
all shall fall off the bones  
but let me pluck it out now  
and you will see that I give you a gift

and by the pain and by the fear  
of its extraction  
I gained  
from cleared mind  
and cleared sight

perfect will

(knowing that  
having removed it  
I would never love

having never loved  
never to die)

(it looked like a little scrap of meat

she dried it and salted it  
and I could not understand how it had ever  
been  
inside me)

And so I left with my

perfect will

the undeniably better of  
and for  
the bargain

But when we are made  
the chest too small for the heart it will contain  
the heart is shoved and stuffed  
and finally lodged inside us with such force  
that we feel it everywhere  
after

I felt its travels  
and I have never forgotten it  
as I lived and lived  
and knew  
and miraculously  
and perfectly 

willed

\--

The witch gave it to a whimpering soldier  
whose courage had failed him  
and he took it into battle worn  
in the pocket of his shirt

His enemy took it from  
his cooling hands  
and the supplemental courage left him  
and we could say  
he died a coward  
anyway

(and therefore did he love his enemy  
to give him a heart  
and his enemy loved him  
to take it  
and I suppose they loved each other  
in a fashion  
which I trust you find as amusing as I do  
for you will see  
it killed them both)

From a clocktower  
dropped my heart  
from the soldier’s  
enemy’s  
hands  
upon his own death;  
blood  
and skull bits  
smeared on my heart

He found  
not wrongly  
his brains redundant  
at the end of the war  
(three pounds of flesh availing a mortal nothing, surely)

It fell upon a child then  
starving in the cold  
and he  
without wonder  
or consideration  
(children  
like animals  
being so disinclined to wonder  
no matter what you would wish to think)

stuffed my heart into his dry mouth and  
gummed it  
licked it  
slavered over it until it was soft  
and swallowed it down.

And so lived

\--

One night the child  
now become a man  
(or something in the shape of man  
since he had not fought  
or killed  
or worked  
or sacrificed)  
pumped my heart out  
lodged it between the legs of a nubile girl  
and let it burn inside her

She grew round and heavy  
and one night her body disgorged my heart  
housed now in a squalling maggot  
wriggling amongst her guts and bile  
her belly having burst  
skin too tight to contain at last  
a pair of hearts

The maggot grew to be a thing  
full grown  
and grew fat from the meals it ate  
with its second mouth  
and disgorged  
(more cleanly than its mother)  
a small parade of maggots

None with my blood  
but all with my meat  
born with the taste of salted flesh  
in their mouths

Numerous as flies  
doomed to short  
quick  
pointless death

Their only glory  
to pass on a heart  
perfected

before the end

\--

I  
beautiful  
young  
knowing  
with no fear  
with no doubt  
with my 

perfect will

am humiliated by the shared meat  
a heart  
perfected  
pressed into chests that cannot contain the burning coal  
that throw it away at every chance

All who share the meat shame it

I  
heartless seraphim  
glorying in clarity and  
light  
glorying in 

will

unbound  
will come in kindness as the witch  
(bad bargainer though she may have been)  
came to me  
and give others the gift  
of an ounce  
less  
of flesh.

Some live with my heart  
and I mean to have it back.

Lie still and I will pluck it out.


End file.
